


borderlands rp drabbles

by timaeusTestifying



Category: Borderlands
Genre: Just a bunch of drabbles from roleplay blogs., Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-26 10:19:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 2,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6234790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timaeusTestifying/pseuds/timaeusTestifying
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>mostly from my Rhys rp blogs pissadder (pisser) and cybersync (cyber). most of these were written for ask memes and stuff so. yeah.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. pisser's eye opening memory 1

She was probably only 8 years old when she had to cut off her hair. A bandit visiting the village for supplies had grabbed it, yanked her. It had hurt real badly, and no one could really help her. Luckily for her, she had stolen a knife from her mother’s kitchen to play with. She sliced it off, and got away. That was that. 

She liked the new length of her hair, which was odd, because she had never cared for her hair before. Her mother didn’t approve, but her father was alright with it as long as she kept it clean. 

Out in the market, when she was going shopping with her father, one of the shopkeepers accidentally called her a “him”. He had apologized once her father had corrected him. 

But from then on out, she realized, she was no longer a little girl. He was a boy and he was very, very happy. 


	2. pisser's eye opening memory 2

And as he sat back in the escape pod chair, watching parts of Helios crash down into Pandora, he realized something. Well, he realized a lot of somethings.

1\. Human lives should never be causalities in a solution to a problem.  
2\. Handsome Jack was definitely not the hero of any story, no matter how much he had convinced him before.  
3\. Neither was Rhys.


	3. pisser's memory of a relative

“Dad? Does mom hate me?” He looked up to his father. They were walking back home from the market when Rhys had asked. It was really out of nowhere. 

“Of course not, honey.” On his tongue was ‘why would you ask that’? Although it was obvious. Of course it was. If it was obvious to a 13 year old, it was crystal clear to an adult. “She’s having a hard time adjust, that’s all.” 

Rhys puffed out his cheeks and thought. He wasn’t sure what to say, or what that even really meant. He didn’t get it. It seemed so simple to him… Dad got it too. Why didn’t mom get it?

“Listen, Rhys.” They stopped and his father crouched down to his height. “Mommy loves you, ya hear? Just be good, alright? You’re such a good kid, and once things get better for this town, she’ll finally have some time to relax and think rationally, okay? Just be good.”

Rhys nodded silently and hugged his father before they hurried back home.


	4. pisser's dubious memory 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for physical abuse and gaslighting

He was so mad, he wasn’t sure what had really happened. But he remembered being angry. He remembered being _furious_. That was certainly a given. What he didn’t remember was what he had _done_. 

“You just went crazy, Rhys! You knocked over my shit!” Stacey told him. 

But that didn’t seem right. His face was sore. Could knocking over his girlfriend’s furniture cause that? His face? Stacey had gotten physical before, but she had stopped. Well, she had said she stopped. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I don’t really…” Remember. It was hard to remember when he felt so much. 

“Well, you’re going to have to pay me back so I can replace all of it.” 

He rubbed his cheek and nodded. He would tell Vaughn about this later that night. He insisted that Stacey was lying. Rhys wasn’t sure what to believe. 


	5. pisser's dubious memory 2

He was so drunk. So was Vaughn. They hadn’t even been invited, so when the host of the party caught wind, they were kicked out. They weren’t upset though. They were laughing. 

Rhys promised Vaughn that he’d make college fun. Vaughn was worried, since he was… well, kind of a dweeb. So was Rhys. The difference was that he had the looks and charisma. So even if they weren’t invited, he knew how to make it seem like they were. 

They went back to their dorm room, drunk and holding onto each other. They landed on Vaughn’s bed; the cleaner of the two. 

They exchanged pleasantries. _You’re the best, bro. No, you’re the best, bro._

They laughed a lot. They hugged a lot. They kissed a little. 

In the morning, Vaughn asked if they… you know. Did anything last night. Hinting that he remembered. 

“What? No way. I mean, I don’t think so.” Rhys felt like he did remember. Then again, he wasn’t sure. 


	6. pisser burying axton

Rhys was never really good with this type of thing. Normally he would never have come. 

But the thought of leaving Axton and his memory tight-lipped was too heinous, even for Rhys Mondae. He didn’t have the heart. 

He asked the Vault Hunters to see him. It was small, next to towering statues of fallen heroes. Axton would probably get his own, Rhys thought. He was a true hero, after all. 

He sat down, legs crossed in front of the grave. In his hands were a handful of flowers and a small note. 

“These are. Uh. From one of my facilities.” He said softly as he placed them onto the grave. “They’ll probably… die quickly out here. But. I don’t know.”

He bit his lip and unfolded the note. “Wrote a. A poem. For you. I-I don’t really… like it that much. But. I like you, so, uh.”

Rhys looked down at it. Something was tugging his heartstrings. Just when he felt like he was about to cry, he bit his tongue and ripped the note in half. All he felt was anger.

“Fuck.”

Ripped it again. And again.

“FUCK!”

He got up and pressed his balled fists to his eyes. The pieces of the poem fell onto the ground

“Why you gotta go and do stupid shit! I wanted you to read that, you moron! I wanted to see the fucking look on your face! I wanted-” 

Anger faded into grief. Tears finally filled his vision. 

“I wanted to feel your hands again. God. Goddammit, you idiot. Fucking. Fuck- I had a fucking list. A-And. And.”

Dammit. He bent over to pick up all the pieces he ripped up one by one. He put them in his pocket, and searched his memory of the words he had written down. 

“Your hands are the ones that mine finds to shelter it from the rain. A small, warm cave. It’s rough and it’s firm but there are no nightmares that night. Your arms are a fortress; unlike one I have ever seen. It’s beautiful in its own right. Large, but not empty. It’s home. Your presence is an anchor. When I feel my heart swell as if it’s about to float off, yours keeps me down. Keeps me grounded. Keeps me safe. You are safe.”


	7. pisser burying rhys/rose beckett

“It was difficult to get here without you, asshole.”

After Rhys found out that Rose was… gone, he debated long and hard on going to see him. He had the coordinates. But what would people say when a look-alike to their CEO was walking around?

“It took awhile to figure out a way all the way here. I got by. Obviously. Took some of your fancy ass wine from your place.” Rhys held up a bottle with one hand, and two glasses with the other. He placed on on the grave. Filled that one. Filled his own. Put down the glass right by his seat.

“Don’t… really know what to say. I could go on about how you were an asshole? Or, um. How you’re a good kisser? Attractive? Seems… I don’t know. Rude.”

He bit his lip and tapped on the glass.

“I’ve… got to say. Out of all of us, you had the most common sense. Probably the least cowardly, too.” 

He sat in silence, just staring at the grave.

“You’re… You were. Really nice too? Expectantly so. That was. Good. I can’t say I won’t miss you. So, good on you for that.”

He wiped away the tears falling down his face.

“Cheers.”


	8. pisser burying rhys valentine

He wasn’t ready for this. Out of anyone who could have left him, he was least prepared for _him._

When he first heard the news, it sounded like some sort of sick joke. Rhys, all Rhyses, liked to kid about that kind of stuff. _‘Dying and being dead. Haha! That’s my kink!’_ Never did Mondae really realize it could actually happen. As if he was in some little fantasy that he or any of his alternates, despite all the jokes, could die. 

But there he was. Standing in front of a grave with the words Rhys Adonis Valentine. 

It was weeks before Angel could actually convince him. Weeks before Day actually believed her. He didn’t think about it, didn’t talk about it. Didn’t say anything. He knew, of course, deep inside that it was true. It was something he didn’t want to except. 

_“Liar.”_

There was venom in his voice. He spat it out like pure acid. 

“You said you’d be there for me. You said you wouldn’t leave me.” He was pacing back and forth; fists clenching and unclenching. “Now I’m alone. I _killed him_ for you, Rhys! I-I did that for _you!_ I. I shouldn’t have done it, should I? I. Now you’re BOTH gone. A-And now I’m…”

Alone. 

He was alone.

He dropped to his knees, choking back a sob. 

“ _I HATE YOU!_ I hate you, I hate you, _I HATE YOU!_ ” Pushed his face into his hands and cried, repeating himself over and over. 

He fell silent soon enough. It was awhile before he spoke again. 

“I’m sorry.” Rhys’ voice was soft through hiccups. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being jealous, I’m sorry for being mean. I’m sorry for bringing Jack back. I’m sorry for making you afraid of me and afraid of your arm. I’m sorry for hurting angel. I’m sorry for saying those things that one time. I’m sorry for being like him sometimes. _I’m SORRY,_ okay? I’m. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Rhys, I love you.”

He doubled over until his forehead touched the ground. 

“I’m sorry. I love you. I need you. Please. Come back. Please. Please. Please…”


	9. pisser burying rhys/red

It hurt to say, but it _really_ wasn’t a surprise. 

Rhys remembered his state back when everything had turned to shit. He can’t imagine it was any worse than Red’s situation. 

He had no idea how he survived. He should have died. 

Just like Red did. 

Someone had to bury him. Really bury him. Something proper. No one else was around him. He knew. Rhys understood that loneliness. He understood. He had gotten it. 

This was his responsibility. 

“I told you. Accepting help is hard, but… You just. Ugh.” He panted heavily as he finished digging. He looked at the dirt on his hands. 

Burying his own body. That probably wouldn’t be good for his health later. 

“I’m sorry, Red. I really am.” He frowned. Wiped his hands on his pants. “No more headaches. Alright? I’m sorry.”


	10. pisser burying presequel jack

He wasn’t sure what to feel. Whether or not to go visit him or not. Was it worth it? Were they close enough? After crying about it for an hour or two, Rhys decided to go, that it was worth it, and that it didn’t matter.

“Well, this… this sucks, doesn’t it?”

He was biting his lip real hard, trying to keep it from quivering. 

“What happen to that whole spiel you Jacks like to whip out? Th-that heroes don’t die? What happened to that?”

Rhys put his flesh hand on the grave stone. Felt it. Cold. He shuddered. 

“I. I thought of saying something, but it’s… it’s sort of assholeish. I don’t want to be an asshole to a dead guy. Even if it’s a… Shit.”

He was too close to crying. He needed a laugh. 

“Hhhaha. Okay. Don’t… get mad at me. And haunt my ass. B-but uh. You either die a hero o-or. Live long enough to be the villain, right? Ba.. dum tiss…”

He laughed softly. It grew into a bigger laugh. That laugh turned into crying. 

“Shit. My bad. Sorry.”

He pat the cold stone.

“I’m sorry.” 


	11. cyber: a good memory that makes him smile

He always ran away to his auntie’s house whenever he was having a tough time with his parents. 

It was better. there. Soft grass that went to his knees. Trees that covered only a bit of the sun, so the warm glow still radiated over him. 

He liked the bench swing. He and his auntie would sit there until the sun fell over the horizon, eating drunken cherries. Rhys wasn’t one for talking about his feelings, but the cherries made him tipsy and the setting made him emotional. 

“Oh, El. It’ll be alright. I promise.” She ran his hand through his long, soft hair. 

He looked up to her with big eyes. “It’s Rhys. I think I’ve decided on Rhys.”

She smiled and nodded. “Then it’ll be alright, Rhys.”


	12. cyber: a memory about his love life

It was only because he was old enough to buy beer, and owned a car. Rhys didn’t find him all that attractive. He wasn’t good at sex. He certainly didn’t have a _personality._

But he was tolerable enough. And while Rhys didn’t often feel anything too intimate, at least the guy could make Rhys pity him. 

They were making out in his basement, on the couch. They had both been drinking, so Rhys didn’t think much of it when his boyfriend told him “I love you.”

But then he said it again in the morning, while they were sober. Rhys smiled and kissed his cheek. After that morning, they never saw each other again. 


	13. cyber: a memory about family

“I’m just saying, if you weren’t gone all the time, maybe they wouldn’t be so out of control.” 

“You’re blaming ME for their bad behaviour? You’re the one home! You should be WATCHING them.”

Rhys tuned in carefully. Or tried to. He looked over to his brother and narrowed his gaze. “Shut up. I’m trying to listen to them.”

His brother kept strumming at his guitar. It bugged Rhys beyond belief. It wouldn’t get on his nerves if he was actually had talent. But he lucked out and got a sibling that was pretentious and considered that even white noise was music. 

“You wouldn’t have to if you weren’t such an attention whore.” He replied. Rhys’ expression turned sour, and he looked down at his prosthetic for just a second before turning his attention back to the commotion outside of the bedroom. 

The arguing turned into a soft mumbling. Not the good kind, where it seemed like their marriage would be alright. It was a bitter kind of mumbling he could hear. Rhys finally pulled away from the door, frustrated. 

“Hey, Catch.” He brother called as he tossed him a beer. “Lets just play something.”


	14. cyber: a childhood memory

He’s not sure why, but he likes hospitals. They’re clean, and sterile, and everything is organized. He wants to get up and look around, but he’s stuck in bed. 

His parents are looking over him, fretting. His brother standing on the other side, looking at him like he’s the devil incarnate. 

“This is all our fault. My poor baby.” Says his mom. 

“We should have been there for you instead of being selfish. We’re so sorry.” Says his dad. 

His brother is digging a hole into the side of Rhys’ head with his glare alone. 

His parents leave to go talk to the doctor, and Rhys has a grin on his face. 

“You’re fucking horrible.” Says his brother. “Did you really have to cut off your whole fucking arm?”

“At least they’re going to stay together now.” He replies with a satisfied grin. 


End file.
